


Before The Earth Was Round

by Soul4Sale



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: AU - Modern, Gay/Slash/Yaoi, M/M, Personal Interpretations of the Qun, Qunmance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 11:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4220739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soul4Sale/pseuds/Soul4Sale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was no purpose to it other than comfort, it seemed. This was not wholly unwelcome, however.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before The Earth Was Round

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished the Deep Roads expedition on my 6th replay of Ethan’s game, and when Carver went off with the Wardens, I cried a little lot. So, here’s some Carver fluff to help me combat the feels. ouo This is also number 15 of the 30 Fluff Tropes prompts from Tumblr. Also inspired a bit by Before The Earth Was Round by OK Go.

“Arvin?” The panicked call came from the bathroom, as the lights flickered out and remained off. Carver Hawke wasn’t usually afraid of the dark, but when the lightning zapped the building they lived in and sapped it of its power, and with him still in the bath, it was easy to be spooked. 

“Yes, Kadan?” Calm as always, even with that rich and deep voice of his, the large man stepped easily through the apartment, with nothing but a candle in hand. 

“Can you, ah… Help me get out?” No words were spoken, but once the younger man had risen and the candle was safely set on the sink, a fluffy towel was wrapped around him and Carver needn’t worry about walking about in the nude. Arvin held him tight to his strong chest, almost protectively, as though the shadows would reach out and try to take what was his.

It was easy enough to carry the youngest Hawke to the bedroom, letting him down to retrieve the candle once more. When he came back, he had to raise an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?” The question might have stayed the hand of stronger men, _wiser_ men, the inky-locked male just continued setting up the fort. He’d drug in two chairs from the dining room, and set them up on either side of the bed. At the foot of the bed was the chair from the desk, its ornate structure obscured by one of six blankets strewn across it and the others, and when he finally looked up, there was a grin on his face.

“When I was a kid, my mom and dad would insist on making blanket forts with us when we were scared during storms and blackouts.” He indulged, having enough sense to look sheepish, “We’ve never done anything like that, and I don’t know that you would if I weren’t here. It’s really comfortable.”

Only Carver would be quick footed enough to fetch every pillow, cushion, blanket, and soft item in the apartment before he returned. Perhaps he had taken longer than he thought, letting the water out and rinsing the tub before grabbing his candle and a few others. They still sat in his enormous palms, and with a soft snort that translated to a laugh, he set them on the bedside table before dragging it out a little. Lighting each one slowly, he let those dual-toned eyes glance over at the blue-eyed man, appraising his nude body for a moment before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Now, it’s time for cuddles.”

Arvin didn’t say much, but he never really did. Words gave people reason and ability to twist them, and there was no way for it to happen if you didn’t give them a starting point. Even still, he settled in among the rich fur blankets he’d brought with him from Par Vollen, sunk into the soft pillows his lover insisted they needed, and finally tugged the smaller against him. He’d heard the other telling his friends and even his brother that being the little spoon for a man so large was strangely comfortable, and he often added something about Ethan ‘missing out’ with his scrawny doctor. With the two of them finally settled in and Carver’s head pillowed on the much larger man’s bicep, he sighed softly, contentedly.

“You should tell me another story.” He finally broke the companionable silence, tilting his head back to look at his pleased Qunari lover. While he would never admit to it, the larger male very nearly purred when he was overjoyed with something, and his younger lover delighted in it.

“What would you like to hear, Kadan?” That thick rumble in his chest nearly vibrated through the pale young man in his arms, and he felt a shudder work down his spine.

“Tell me about the world again, before it was round.” It was an interesting concept, and he loved the blunt way Arvin told stories. Varric’s were always too full of embellishments for his taste (and almost always started with “No shit, there I was…”)

“Before the world was round,” He began, the words dropping from his lips as though he were reading them, “Everything had its place, and no one thought to question it. The sun worked hard for what He gave them, always burning when they needed and sleeping as they slept. But there was one creature, a lark, that was not content with his place. He took audience with the Sun, in hopes to find a new calling, or imagine a ‘freedom’. The sun said to find solace in his work, to be what he was and choose to live by it. The Lark replied that this was no life to live; that choosing to live was not a choice.”

Sometimes, when he listened to this story, Carver wondered if the Lark was meant to represent his brother. He had tried to explain things to Arvin, sure, but not everyone was so easily bent to Ethan’s will.

“The Sun told him that if he did not wish to live by their laws, that he would have to live the rest of his days on the underside of the world, where it was always black and cold. The Lark did not listen, instead spreading lies and rumors that the world would bend to their will should enough of them decide that choosing to be was not a good enough lifestyle. All of the animals, except for the Ox, suddenly began to question everything they had been taught and had ever done, because the words of the Lark seemed true. With nearly everyone else on his side, the Lark demanded that half of the animal kingdom stand on one side of the world, and the other on the other side. This would successfully bend it to their will, and make sure that he would never be touched by the dark, cold grip of death the underside promised. As he flew between the two points, the entire Earth began to curl, swallowing up the blackness beneath it. Believing he had won, the Lark stopped at the crease of the land and sea to taunt the darkness. It left its eternal mark on him, turning him black as night and leaving his once glossy feathers nothing but spiked quills. This, the Sun said, was his punishment for bringing useless, imagined freedoms into a perfect world.”

The sound of soft snores could be heard, as he finished his story, and when he looked down, the slightest curl of his lips indicated he was happy to see the fear had been leached from the younger. With strong lungs, he blew the candles out from where he lay, and closed his eyes, ready to find sleep, as well.


End file.
